[Swizz Beatz]
Millennium time, millennium time
Yo, Strings, Drag-On
Swizz-Swizz-Swizz Beatz
Yo, yo, yo (1-2-3-4)

[Chorus One: Strings]
Raise it up, in the front
Raise it up, in the back
Raise it up, on the side
Raise it up, where you at?
Raise it up, in the middle
Raise it up, in the back
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up

[Chorus Two: Strings]
Blaze it up, in the front
Blaze it up, in the back
Blaze it up, on the side
Blaze it up, where you at?
Blaze it up, in the middle
Blaze it up, in the back
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up

[Strings]
How many why'all real ones feelin this in yo' feet?
How many why'all real ones bumpin Strings in yo' Jeeps?
How many why'all real ones got beef?
Packin heat, packin in yo' sleep
Haters is hungry up in them streets
How many why'all real ones got dough after ass?
How many why'all real ones hustle and make it fast?
How many why'all real ones got women with class?
Bringin they own shit, makin they own cash
How many why'all real ones is ready for combat?
How many why'all real ones' lions was takin for tomcats?
Contacts for contracts, that's where I'm at
Lyin ass for cash for eternity, I'm stacked
Ruff to the Ryde, never been what I'm about
What the hell are why'all waitin for?
My toque is fired up
Make my pocket lump-lump, I give you the pump-pump
Let me see you jump-jump, and shakin your rump-rump-rump
Party over here, bump that over there
Hands in the air, drinks e'rywhere
And if wherever you from, please we don't care
Long as you got that derriere
Make that cash, make that dough
Break that chick, pimp that yo
Sisqo flow, uhh, Sisqo flow
Throw yo' hands up, my soldiers puttin it down
Where my ladies at, shake that thang all around
I said throw yo' hands up, my soldiers puttin it down
Where my ladies at, shake that thang all around

[Chorus One] - 2X
[Drag-On]
(Flame On!!)
All my people Ryde 'em Ruff like giddy-up
Get a nigga, pick 'I'm up, stick 'I'm up
Get the nine, hit 'I'm up, ambulance come pick 'I'm up
All my people push weight
Ain't nothin but a word to move the bird
We fly them south for the winter
Cook them up then push 'em out like dinner
Now eat.. Drag-On get enough to feed the streets
Like here's a key, take that
Who him? Break that
Why'all boys better make my kick-back
With a pen in my hand why'all see gashes
Bullets will land why'all see splashes
When I send them loose beadies
Brains on the walls like grafitis
All my peoples is millionaires
But in the hood, they still there
When there's a cop, let's bail out, we bail there
Come back to the hood and get killed there
Get carried out, when I go to the hood
Why them girls want to marry me now, and follow me now?
I just tell them to shut up..
All my people done Ryde the people
Put they body where you can't see them
Half of they body is stuffed tissue
Other half got you peakin
Drag got you peelin
Double are got you leakin
Swizz got your brain sodomized
Ruff Ryde or Die

[Chorus One] - 2X
[Chorus Two] - till fade

Writer : Smalls, Mel Jason / Dean, Kasseem / Teal, Marinna
Copyright : Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMI Music Publishing